Dance In The Dark
by c0ppertone
Summary: MCR slash fic. It starts off as a simple crush, but he can't stop it from becoming lust and love. The only problem is, Ray hasn't got a clue how to win over Mikey... Ray/Mikey


**Dance In The Dark**

_**Pairing:** Rikey (Mikey Way/Ray Toro)_  
><em><strong>Age Rating:<strong> NC-17_  
><em><strong>POV:<strong> 3rd Person – Ray centric_  
><em><strong>Era:<strong> Black Parade Tour_  
><em><strong>Word Count:<strong> ~5000_

**Notes:** _Basically, around 5000 words of lust, confusion and fucking. Heh. Enjoy~  
>Just a quick warning - the tense switches from past to present at about the mid way point. Why? To be honest, I have no idea myself. <em>

* * *

><p>Fuck, he wanted Mikey <em>so bad.<em>

He'd wanted him for as long as he could remember. Everything about the bassist drew Ray in – his skills, his awkward adorableness, his kindness, his odd sense of humour, and goddamn, the man was _beautiful._

The guitarist had struck up a friendship with him the moment they met, and that friendship only grew when Ray joined the band: he and Mikey were so alike, it was insane. They shared the same interests and loved the same things, in everything from video games and comic books to music and movies... hell, the list could go on forever. He was just so _perfect _to him, and Ray fell for him hard. It couldn't be helped, it couldn't be stopped – it just happened, whether he liked it or not.

It started out as innocent little crush. Ray found himself wanting to spend more and more time with Mikey, wanting to do everything he could to make him smile, wanting to hang on his every word. He became determined to be the one who was always there for him.

Whenever something went wrong, Ray was the one to jump to the rescue. Through relationship drama, the death of Elena, even through bouts of depression and nervous breakdowns, he'd held him close. Let himself be a shoulder to cry on. Shared his pain.

_I just wish he'd realise how much he fucking means to me..._

Ray had tried to keep his 'innocent crush' exactly that way, nothing more and nothing less. Really, he had. But his attempts to forget about it all and try to move on failed miserably... his little crush became a hopeless, burning sort of lust; that lust became love that he couldn't escape at all.

The weird thing was, he didn't particularly _want _to escape it – he wanted to feel it forever. He wanted Mikey to feel the same way.

But Ray was too much of a fucking wimp to admit anything. The man with a plan always drew a blank when it came to his bandmate. Mikey scrambled his brain, sent him insane without even lifting a finger. Not that he minded... he loved how it felt, whether he chose to admit it or not.

Playing on stage now was all just a blur. Tensions were running high in the band, tempers were fraying, things were being said that were regretted just seconds afterwards. But somehow, even as The Black Parade Tour tore them apart, My Chemical Romance kept on going – for the fans, for the music, for whatever reason. It was a mystery; a mystery Ray didn't care about solving, as long as the band he'd spent so long with didn't fall apart... as long as he could still see Mikey.

Right now, his head was in the fucking clouds, even if he _was _pouring all his heart and soul into playing the gig. His hands slipped deftly over the frets of the guitar as Gerard belted out the lyrics to Famous Last Words, but his movements were robotic, pre-programmed.

No, Ray couldn't give a damn about concentrating at that moment in time. How could he? A certain dark-haired bassist stood playing right beside him.

As in, _right _next to him. Leaning on him. Playing the bass practically in his face. Breathing the same air. Smirking at him.

Ray's breath hitched in his throat. Mikey never did shit like this on stage. The other guys did it to him (so basically, it was just Gee and Frankie flirting with everything that moves, as usual), but he'd never... done it himself. Everyone assumed he was just too innocent to understand _how _to.

Apparently not.

"Just roll with it, Ray. S'totally normal, right?" Mikey giggled into his ear, and he could feel his whole face heat up.

So he resorted to the only stage-gay his fried brain could come up with – he turned his head to the side and kissed Mikey clumsily on the cheek.

_Fuck, that felt good..._

"See? Totally normal." He whispered as Ray leant on his shoulder, still keeping perfectly in time with the song. "I'm gonna leave you alone now, but when we get to the hotel... my room, bro." With that, he retreated back to his usual place on stage, giggling that adorable little giggle of his.

_Wait, what...?_

Did he even hear him right? Was it just his mind playing tricks? Nothing made sense anymore... there was no Mikey could mean... oh god. Ray slipped up a couple of notes, and Frank shot him a death glare from his little crumpled pile of midget-guitarist on the floor. He snorted. Frank couldn't really say _anything _after the fro had caught him and Gee at the back of the tour bus... nope, not at all.

Soon enough, Ray got back into the groove, but his mind was still elsewhere. And to make things worse, Mikey seemed to be _taunting _him as he watched from the corner of his eye: pulling orgasmic faces, letting Frank grind against him, practically wanking off his bass, and generally playing as if it was the last night of his life.

If he was trying to frustrate Ray, it was definitely working.

Fuck. He felt like he was about to go fucking mental.

As the concert drew to a close, Mikey was the first to retreat to the bus. Ray was beyond confused; the bassist had done a total flip on his modum operandi tonight. His innocence had apparently become some sort of sexual prowess. His usual reluctance to leave a venue had become a complete mad dash to get away.

What the hell was going on?

They'd pulled up at the hotel about half an hour later – and Ray hadn't spoken to Mikey at all. He hadn't even made eye contact with him. No, instead, he'd sat away from the rest of the band as the bus moved, awkwardly reading a comic and watching them chat happily, in what he thought was an inconspicuous way...

But obviously, it wasn't as inconspicuous as he'd thought it was: Gerard noticed, and wandered over to where he was sitting. He was grinning, but he looked just a little bit worried.

"Something the matter, Ray? You're not usually the one who sits out of these things. Not unless you're worried about something."

Damn. Why did these guys have to know him so well?

"Nothing's the matter, Gerard... I'm just tired. I'm fine. Really. Honestly." _Wow. Such a way to sell it, Toro. You fucking __**moron**__._

"No, you're not fine." He flashed him a knowing smirk. "This is about Mikey, ain't it?"

Ray jumped in his seat. How the fuck did he know that?

"Oh, come on, Ray. The whole band knows you're obsessed with him. You're not the best at hiding it, man..." Gerard laughed. "Mikey's just really dense when it comes to this shit, as I'm pretty sure you already know."

"Fuck, man... you all knew?"

"How could we not? You hang on his every word, Toro."

"And you're okay with that...?" Ray was on shaky ground here, he knew that. The older Way was a bit of a... demon when it came to protecting his little M.

Gerard snorted. "'Course I'm fine with it. I know you well enough, Ray – you wouldn't hurt him, not in a million years. You act tough, but you're just a big softie really." He took a sip from the glass of water in his hands, seeing Ray get torn between happiness, confusion, and just being plain insulted. "But I swear, if you so much as say one thing wrong to him... I'll come to you in the night and drain every damn bit of blood from your godforsaken body, y'hear?"

"Damn, Gee... since when did you become a vampire?" Ray blinked at him, feeling himself getting more and more nervous. Understandably so, too.

"Oh. Would ya rather I ripped your throat out instead?" the frontman replied a little _too _casually for Ray's liking.

"That's not exactly what I meant, Gerard. But anyway..." He cut that kind of creepy line of conversation before it could get any more graphic. "Mikey doesn't like me back, let alone love me back. This talk's a little... redundant."

"Ray. My little brother may be dense, bless him, but he has feelings. He's fucking hung up on you. He told me so himself."

"Wait, seriously...?" Ray was sure the singer was lying to him, he had to be. But he couldn't help but feel a little bit hopeful.

"Would I lie about something like this? He fucking loves you, Ray, whether you think so or not. He was just convinced you didn't like him back, so he never told you. It took a hell of a lotta convincing from me that you did. But now he believes me." He watched with a grin as the fro's face lit up. "That's _probably _why he did what he did on stage tonight..."

Again, Ray jumped a little in shock. Geez, did Gerard have eyes everywhere? He'd been certain he hadn't seen... oh well. When in doubt, blame Frankie.

"Yeah, that's right. I know what he did. And if I were you, I'd do whatever he told you to do. Don't screw this up, Toro. I'll be the first to hear about it if you do."

"... r-right. Thank you, Gerard. I think, anyway." He stammered out, smiling.

Gerard just laughed as he began to head back to his bandmates. "You'll definitely be thanking me tomorrow, man."

Ray looked over at the group as their eccentric, platinum-haired frontman rejoined them, only to see Mikey staring back at him. Realising he'd been caught in the act, the bassist turned away sharply, blushing.

Shit. This was gonna be one hell of a weird night.

Ray doesn't head up to Mikey's hotel room straight away. In all honesty, he's fucking terrified, and thousands of thoughts and questions and frustrations and just... everything. Everything runs through his head at once, bombarding his brain with a load of shit he doesn't need.

_Could he really have meant what I think he means? Was Gerard even telling the truth? Is he going to...? Fuck. I don't know anymore. I just. Don't. Know._

By the time he's finally worked up the courage to get moving, it's probably the middle of the night – he's got no idea, he's lost track of the time. All he knows is that it's fucking annoyingly dark, and the clever managers of this third-rate hotel have switched off all the lights and left him with just the moonlight to guide his way around with. _Brilliant._

Now he's stood outside the doorway – room number 255, he observes. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He needs to procrastinate. Take a little time to... check out the scenery. Yeah. That. God, he's nervous. His palms are sweating, his face crimson red.

The hotel itself isn't that bad. They've been in better, but the staff are friendly, it's clean, and, as random as it sounds, the upholstery's nice. Seems the guys knew what they were doing when it came to interior design...

It's only then that Ray realises how much of an idiot he's being, and he sighs. It's now or never, and he hasn't got all night... and neither has Mikey.

So with his heart beating faster than is probably human, Ray taps lightly on the door. Part of him wants Mikey to be asleep, to not hear him – anything to get him out of this. But deep down, he just wants to see what happens. He wants this to be a night to fucking remember.

He hears the man inside fiddle with the locks, and his insides begin to squirm.

"Is that you, Ray...?" the bassist peeks through the only slightly open door, smiling when he recognises the man he's been waiting for. "Oh, hey man. You coming in?"

"S-sure thing..." _Oh, just calm the fuck down, Toro..._

Mikey steps aside to let Ray in, before heading over to perch on the edge of his bed; he looks particularly awkward right now.

"Mikey... are you going to explain why you invited me up here, yet?"

He says nothing in return, just patting the bed beside him as a gesture for Ray to join him in his awkward sitting.

"I... I..." he starts, but then cuts himself short. "I just..."

Ray places a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. It's obvious he's on the verge of admitting something here, and the tension in the room could be cut with a fucking _knife._

He leans over to whisper into his ear, just like he'd done on stage earlier. "I just don't know... how to put it into words, Ray..." His hands twitch nervously, and the guitarist takes them in his own to calm him down.

"Why don't you _not _use words then? Use actions, instead. Would that be easier?"

Mikey just nods, but stands up abruptly, heading over to the wall and leaning back on it. He gestures for Ray to follow with his hand, smiling sweetly with a blush painting his usually pale cheeks. The older man complies wordlessly, finding himself in front of Mikey again within seconds.

"Any reason we've moved over here...?"

"No reason really... just makes it easier to do _this._" With that said, Mikey grabs a fistful of Ray's shirt in his hands, forcefully pulling them closer and crashing their lips together.

_Holy shit._

All the tension in the air disappears as Ray kisses him back passionately, moving his hands to wrap around Mikey's slight frame. He feels him smile against his lips, and his heart flutters – Mikey wants this. He's not dreaming, he's not imagining this. It's real, it's true, and it's making him melt.

Mikey pulls away slightly after what feels like forever, gasping for air and looking up at the other, searching for his approval.

"Mikey... wow, you...? Really...? Wow." _How smooth._

The dark haired younger man giggles at his lack of eloquence, his eyes, still rimmed by his usual smoky makeup, lighting up with happiness.

"Shh now, Ray... no words. Talk with your lips."

_Fuck, since when was Mikey so good at this?_

But Ray doesn't have time to think about that. No, Mikey's already pouncing on him again, ferociously this time. It seems now he knows he _can_, he's completely going for it.

Ray whines, and Mikey takes full advantage of his slightly parted lips, diving in with his tongue, starting a battle for dominance – only to lose it. He finds himself pressed against the wall, panting as Ray moves sideways to nibble on his earlobe, and he bucks forward, _desperate _for friction.

"Oh, fuck, Raaaaay..." he moans breathlessly as their clothed crotches touch. Ray gasps at the feeling, his grip on Mikey tightening as he slowly starts to grind against him. He needs _more, more, more._

Mikey mewls as the delicious friction he's craving is given to him, and he feels himself harden inside his jeans. He's losing any control he had already, but he does not give a single fuck.

Ray's just doing what feels right. Whatever makes Mikey feel good, makes him feel good too. He removes a hand from Mikey's waist and swiftly moves it down to cup the bulge in his jeans, dragging his nails across the material. A smirk graces his lips as he watches the other's face contort in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"You like that, Mikes?"

He nods quickly, his breathing shallow.

"You want more?"

A moan is his answer, and Ray begins to tug his shirt upwards. Mikey lifts his arms in compliance, which are quickly pinned to the wall as the annoying shirt gets tossed carelessly aside. Another moan escapes his throat at the feeling of being pinned, which only increases in volume as Ray tilts his head upwards to lick a stripe across his neck.

"Oh Ray, please..." he shudders as the older man nips softly at his skin. "Bite me, oh god..."

The guitarist looks up at him questioningly. "You're gonna have to speak up Mikes, I can't quite hear ya..." he teases.

"I said... bite me, bitch." He growls forcefully.

Ray can't refuse that menacing tone, and he bites roughly down onto Mikey's skin, feeling his vocal chords vibrate with a low and needy groan.

"Y-yes, like that... oh..." the bassist surrenders completely to the sensation as Ray begins to bite a line along his collarbone, leaving a trail of angry red marks. "Please, don't stop, don't stop..." _I never want this to end..._

With his hands ghosting down Mikey's sides, Ray slowly but surely begins to work his way downwards, while the other shivers beneath the feather-like touch. He attacks the expanse of exposed skin with his teeth and nails, eliciting gasps and moans – music to his fucking ears.

It isn't long before he comes face to face with the hem of Mikey's jeans.

"Can... can I...?"

The younger man looks down at him, biting and whimpering, nodding his confirmation. Ray doesn't have a moment to lose, hastily unbuttoning and tugging down said jeans with no skill, just clumsiness and sheer luck. Soon enough though, they're off, tossed aside to join the discarded shirt. Off come the boxers, too.

_Shit... shit, he's beautiful. _He thinks as he takes in Mikey's naked form. It's all a blur now; he still can't believe he's here, he can't believe Mikey accepted him, liked him back, he can't believe he's about to do _this_, **nothing makes sense.**

"Please, Ray... do something, anything, please..." he's begging and pleading, arching his back. Ray breathes hot air over the tip of his leaking cock, and it sends him insane – there's only one thing left to do. He leans forward and, taking Mikey by surprise, takes his entire length into his mouth.

"OH FUCK, RAY...!" he practically screams out, his head tossed backwards as Ray begins to move tantalisingly slowly, doing everything he can to make Mikey feel good. He hums softly, the vibrations sending thrills of pleasure up Mikey's spine and making him groan lowly.

Every so often he completely changes pace, biting down lightly or swiping his tongue over the slit, glancing upwards to see the quivering, moaning wreck that Mikey has become. From his lips emerges Ray's name over and over again, a constant mantra that doesn't stop as he loses all coherency to the sensation.

"Ray... Ray... I'm so close, Ray... please..." He pants as Ray takes him deeper into his mouth than he thought possible, his throat constricting around his head.

Ray barely acknowledges the statement, instead reaching up to grasp Mikey's hands and pull them down to entwine with his own hair. He looks up at him pleadingly, hoping he'll understand.

"You want me to...?" he rocks his hips forward slightly, and Ray moans his approval. "You want me to fuck your mouth?" There's that ferociousness again, the same he'd glimpsed earlier.

Gripping Ray's hair in his hands, he begins to thrust forwards, whining helplessly as he feels his cock go deeper and deeper into his mouth. Ray moans shamelessly at being dominated like this, desperate to please Mikey and send him over the edge.

"F-fuck, Ray... I'm gonna... gonna..." he gasps loudly as he comes hard into Ray's waiting mouth, blushing furiously when he sees him clean up every last drop and stand up shakily.

"Was that... okay, Mikey?" Ray whispers, smiling. He's so hard it's fucking _uncomfortable_, but he wants this to be about his bassist, not him.

"It was so... so... wow. Thank you." He grins back, before glancing downwards and noticing the bulge in Ray's jeans. "That doesn't look... very comfortable, Ray." Smirking, he darts his hand downwards to grasp his crotch, pushing himself away from the wall and dragging Ray back to the double bed, his eyes half-lidded and seductive.

"How about we get you out of those clothes, hmm...? You like you're gonna burn up in them." Ray just stares gormlessly and speechlessly as Mikey leans forward to kiss him, tasting himself on his lips and beginning to tug Ray's shirt upwards.

In what seems like seconds, Ray joins Mikey in a state of nakedness, still speechless as the other throws himself onto the bed and pulls Ray with him, forcing him to straddle and sealing their lips together. It still feels as fantastic as the first time they kissed; he can practically feel the sparks fly from between them.

"Fuck, Ray... you're so beautiful." He smiles, speaking against Ray's lips with his hands lightly trailing down his arms and coming to rest on his hips.

"You are too, Mikey. So fucking beautiful." He feels his heart flutter.

"Ray... umm..." Mikey bites down on his lip again – he doesn't know how to word what he wants again.

"What is it, Mikey?" Softly, he brings his hand to the younger man's cheek, caressing it with his calloused fingers.

His hands wrapped around Ray's waist, he leans up to whisper huskily: "Ray... will you fuck me tonight?"

The guitarist's already moaning just thinking about doing that, and he turns Mikey's face gently to the side in order to bite down his jawline. "If that's what you want... I'd be more than happy to." Mikey just nods, his grip tightening.

The two begin a battle of teeth, attacking every exposed bit of heated skin in a messy sort of duel littered with whimpering and whining. Red marks mar the once untouched expanses as proceedings get rougher and rougher... until Ray finds a spot just behind Mikey's ear that sends him absolutely _wild._

"Ray, baby, please, anything, fuck me, fuck me, oh god, I'm begging you...!" His voice is a squeal, high pitched as he writhes and squirms at the contact to that sensitive patch he was certain no one would ever find. But damn, is he glad Ray did.

"You want me to what, Mikes...? Can't quite hear you there." He's smirking, with a teasing lilt to his voice.

Feeling too fucking impatient to go suffer this slow torture, Mikey reaches back blindly to the bedside table in search of the lube he'd left there hours ago – he shoves it into Ray's hands, finally mirroring his smirk.

"I said. Fuck. Me. Ray." It's a demand that can't be refused.

"Do you want me to fuck you hard, Mikey?" He's coating his fingers with the lube, but doesn't break eye contact for even a second.

"Yes... oh, please, yes..."

"So hard you'll see stars? So hard you won't be able to walk?"

"RAY!" he pleads, so fucking _desperate _for everything and anything and everything in between the two. Ray just giggles evilly and trails his hand down to Mikey's ass, pressing two fingers inside of him and scissoring without warning.

Mikey moans; the feeling of Ray stretching him, preparing him for so much _more_, it'd unbelievable – and now he's adding a third finger... he feels so full, so fucking _happy_, for a lack of a better description. He's ready for this. He wants it more than anything. He's wanted it for so long.

"Are you ready for me, Mikey?" Ray mumbles against his lips, kissing him again, not even bothering to remove his intruding fingers – he's noticed the way Mikey's rocking back against them, trying to bury them deeper inside of him, and holy shit, it's so _hot._

"Ready... so ready for you, oh..."

Ray withdraws his fingers quickly, making Mikey hiss at the loss... only to find himself groaning so fucking _loudly _as he's thrust into by something much larger.

"HOLY FUCK, RAY... move, oh god, ple—"A keening whine interrupts his speech when he feels Ray begin to thrust roughly into him.

"Shit, Mikey, you're so tight... so hot..."

Mikey whines and arches his back, lifting himself off of the bed. Nothing can compare to this. _Nothing. _He feels so loved and so wanted, and shit, it feels so _good..._

"Ray... talk d-dirty to me..."

He blinks down at the writhing and mewling man beneath him, his mind taking a while to process what he's just heard. But somehow, he knows Mikey wants him to. He doesn't need to ask again.

"You... fucking... slut..." he grunts lowly between each particularly rough thrust. "You'd ride... fucking anything for a thrill, bitch... you're such a whore for my cock."

"Yes... yes... tell me how fucking _bad _I am, baby..." His entire body shudders violently as a powerful thrust hits his prostate. "Oh GOD, right there! Harder..."

Ray's only too happy to oblige, pulling Mikey's legs over his shoulders and wrapping them around his back – bringing him even closer, moaning shamelessly when the other uses his new position to bury his cock deeper inside of him.

"Fuck, you're such a slut, Mikes. Whose slut are you?"

"Y-yours, Ray, only yours..." It's a broken whisper, barely audible above the pleasured noises and the sound of skin on skin.

"I can't hear you..." he says darkly, abusing Mikey's prostate with each stroke in and out, to the point where he can barely form a thought that makes sense, let alone words.

"I'M YOURS! I'M FUCKING YOURS, RAY TORO, MAKE ME YOURS!" he yells as loud as he fucking well can, the tension in the pit of his stomach quickly building and tightening. "Fuck me harder, faster, you animal..."

"That's better; let the whole world know who you belong to..." He leans down to attack Mikey's collarbone, nipping and biting, speeding up and snapping his hips forward.

"I belong to you... I always have, I've always been yours, I've always wanted to be yours..." It seems Mikey's been reduced to mindless babbling – the pain, the pleasure, the heat, the noise... it's all too much. Nothing makes sense, everything's just _feelings _and _experiences. _

"Oh, Mikey... I'm so close... are you?" One hand trails down Mikey's arched stomach, reaching down to wrap around his cock. He wants them to come at the same time. He wants this to be so _perfect._

He hisses at the sensation, thrusting upwards into Ray's hand. "Yes, so fucking close... ah..."

Ray's doing everything he can to push Mikey over the edge again now – fucking him hard and insanely fast, stroking him roughly, digging his thumb into his weeping slit, nibbling on that spot behind his ear that sends him wild.

And fuck, does it work.

"Shit, Ray, I'm gonna—" He whines for a final time, coming hard over Ray's hand and painting both their stomachs with white.

"FUCK!" Ray screams as he feels Mikey clench around his length, reaching his climax with a guttural groan and collapsing on top of the panting man beneath him.

"Ray... Ray..." Mikey whispers weakly, his eyes half-lidded and beyond tired. "I... love you, Ray. I love you so much." He snuggles against the older man, not caring about the mess. "I've wanted this for so long. You're just so... perfect. So kind, so caring, so amazing. I'm just so happy... that you didn't reject me. That you're still here... I was so worried you didn't like me back."

"Shh, Mikey... I love you too. So much it burns." He says this softly, planting a kiss on Mikey's forehead. "I'm so glad that you've told me this... that you've done _this _with me. I thought I'd never have a chance with you. All these years I thought that we'd just... stay friends, nothing more, and it broke my heart. But look where we are now..." A smile brightens his expression now.

"Thank you... thank you so much again, Ray... I love you, I really do..." The bassist trails off with a yawn, finally passing out in the arms of the man he loves from sheer exhaustion.

Ray bites his lip to hold back an embarrassing "n'awwww" that's threatening to escape, gently pulling a duvet over their tangled limbs. He's too tired to think, too tired to talk, but at the same time he can still feel that uplifting happiness that's practically radiating from his every pore.

"Sleep now, little M... you need it." Planting another kiss on Mikey's cheek and hugging him tight to his chest, Ray lays back and succumbs to the darkness of a peaceful sleep.

A dance in the dark such as theirs really does take its toll... but in all the best ways imaginable.


End file.
